Rebels Remembered
by KaitiJo
Summary: A young woman sits before a mural before joining the fight. My entry for #RebelsRemembered


**Disclaimer: Disney owns Star Wars, not me. All the characters and places (except for my OC) belong to them.**

**This was done for #RebelsRemembered. It's hard to believe that one year has passed since it ended. Rebels left such an impact on me. I apologize in advance for anything that seems off or odd. I pretty much just wrote this from the top of my head. I hope everyone enjoys this little story:)**

**Rebels forever!**

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He was like me.

That was the thought that always raced through my head whenever I sat in front of the mural that had been painted after the war. The war that had ended days after I had been born. Just not soon enough for my parents, killed in one of the final battles while I had been hidden away with other children. Luckily the Rebellion, well the New Republic found me and got me new parents.

Parents who brought me here every standard year to mark the anniversary of Lothal's freedom from the Empire.

That's how he, Ezra Bridger became my hero. The shinning knight in all my bedtime stories, the best friend a girl could ever ask for, and the one man I compared all my would-be boyfriends to.

Which of course drove Dad and Father crazy, but I didn't see why they had to worry. It was always going to be hard to date anyone when your one parent is tall like a Wookie only a lot less cuddly with a slightly nasty temper when he wasn't happy and the other was a former Imperial. Plus I was always like one of the very few humans on Lira San where we lived and they were kind of famous there so again, nothing to worry about.

If I did drive Dad crazy, I was in good company Auntie always said. Ezra drove all of them crazy at times, but a good crazy. Life was never boring when he was around.

I wrapped my arms around my legs, rested my head on my knees. That was another reason why I was different. I knew. I knew the truth.

My classmates from my schools didn't think Ezra was the real deal. We had all studied the Rebellion, the fight to free the galaxy from the deadly hand of an insane Emperor. But to them Ezra, the Ghost, even the very leaders of the Rebellion like Princess Leia or Admiral Ackbar or General Dodonna were less real and more myths.

But I knew better.

I knew because my parents had fought beside them. My Dad had shared a room with Ezra to the very end. Until Ezra had vanished with an Imperial Admiral named Thrawn and no one knew where they had gone.

That's why I didn't see Auntie too much. She was out there looking for him.

I squeezed my arms tighter around my legs. Ezra had been younger than me when he had started fighting the Empire. When he had begun to fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves. He had been close to my age when he summoned pergil and with their help brought down the Imperial leaders on Lothal, freeing the planet.

It wasn't a big battle. Not in the grand scheme of the Rebellion, but it had started something. All because of Ezra. All because of my hero.

That was why I was here now, sitting in front of Auntie's mural while Dad and Father waited outside. They wanted me to have this moment to myself. This one moment that I wouldn't have for a while.

A transmission had reached Lira San. A desperate plea, a call for help from General Organa and what was left of the Resistance.

A call to join them and help push back the First Order which was seeking to remake the Empire.

The First Order had destroyed the seat of the New Republic and had left the Resistance in tatters.

I slowly stood and moved closer to the mural, reaching out to touch it, and stared into the deep blue of Ezra's eyes.

My parents were the first line of defense and couldn't leave Lira San just in case the First Order somehow managed to make it to us.

But I could and I was.

I was leaving Lira San, my family, and I was going to join the Resistance. I would follow in the steps of my parents and be a Rebel, a Fulcrum.

I wasn't a Jedi like Ezra, but I could fight and I would fight for those who couldn't fight for themselves.

Reaching down I picked up Father's old bo-rifle. It was mine now and I would do my best to honor him if, when I fought in battle. Him and Dad.

Slowly I backed out of the room.

"I'll see you soon Ezra and this time I'll have stories to tell you."


End file.
